


Pony Attitude

by Dreamer_of_Improbable_Dreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animal Transformation, Case Fic, Crack Fic, Curses, Dean gets turned into a miniature horse, Fluff, Gen, Grumpy Dean, Horses, Transformation, miniature horse, unicorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:16:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_of_Improbable_Dreams/pseuds/Dreamer_of_Improbable_Dreams
Summary: Dean gets cursed into a tiny grumpy horse.Sam discovers something special about his moody four legged brother.





	Pony Attitude

**Author's Note:**

> This did not turn out the way I meant it to.  
> it turned out very very different.

Sam stares in stunned wonder as he watches Dean stomp one tiny round hoof in frustration.  
This one is completely new.  
They’ve been beaten, burned, possessed, hexed, and cursed with all manner of curses. They’ve been threatened with even more. But this? This is completely new.  
Dean whistles angrily and stomps his tiny hooves and swishes his tail and tosses his short mane and Sam can only stare wide eyed at the tiny horse that used to be his brother.  
The damn thing barely comes up to his knee!  
Do horses even come that small in real life?

Dean neighs angrily and stomps one of his little feet onto Sam’s toe’s to jar him out of his shocked state.  
Sam honest to god knows next to NOTHING about horses. except that one week he and Dean had worked at a ranch where their dad had left them for a job when he was sixteen.  
Even then, he hadn’t really learned a lot of the ins and outs of their every day care, having spent more time curled up on a hay bail studying while Dean did the work.

It’s a clusterfuck. Sam scoops up all the magic books and paraphernalia before setting the witch’s house on fire and trying to figure out how to bundle the pony that is his brother into the impala.  
Dean doesn’t make anything any easier. Making loud grumpy pony noises and stomping his hooves and switching his whiplike tail so it lashed against Sam’s shins.   
In the end he managed to bundle Dean into the front seat, but only AFTER he had whistled and whickered and made faces at Sam and pulled at the hem of Sam’s flannel until Sam had taken it off and put it down on the leather seats to protect them from Dean’s sharp little hooves.  
Now Sam drove down the highway with a minuscule horse occupying the shotgun.  
It was by far one of the weirdest things Sam had ever experienced.  
The strangest bit was that the pony still sounded like Dean. And it still looked like Dean. With its huge green eyes and long thick lashes, its coat a soft sort of brown colour freckled with darker specks and a short brush cut mane that reminded Sam so uncannily of Dean’s human hair that it made him uncomfortable.  
“I can’t believe you where dumb enough to get yourself turned into a pony.” Sam couldn’t help but wonder aloud.  
Dean shot him a dirty look down his muzzle and wrinkled his horsey lips into a sneer.  
Well that was human enough to make him uncomfortable, Sam thought.  
“I take it that means you can still understand everything I say then. You’ve still got your human mind in there. Thats good.” Sam babbled.  
Dean just snorted at him derisively, flicked his ears, and stuck his head under the dash to put his nose in the box of tapes.  
Sam was never going to be able to look at a horse the same way again. 

It was a two day drive back to the bunker, and that would have been if Dean where there to trade off with him on driving, as it was, they where going to have to stay in a motel for the night. 

 

It was around mid day when Dean’s uncomfortable shifting and miserable noises forced Sam to stop and let his brother out to stretch his legs.  
They pulled into a rest stop and Sam let Dean out of the car.  
It wasn’t much, just a place to pull over and a couple of park benches on a bit of grass before it gave over to evergreen forest. It’s quiet and empty except for the rustling of trees and the chirp of birds.  
Sam stretches his stiff muscles as he watches Dean clip-clop away across the hardtop on his dainty little hooves and into the tree line.  
It’s peaceful and the sun is warm. Shining down in bright gold shafts through the trees and Sam tilts his head to enjoy it for a moment before pulling out his research with a sigh.  
He can still hear Dean clomping around in the pushes and making irritable snorts as he probably stomps some underbrush to death and vents his now pint sized angry emotions.

Sam’s sitting in the driver’s seat with the door open and his legs out in the warm sun, his research on his knee when a shitty old VW bus pulls up and a man and woman climb out. breaking the silence with their yelling as they cuss and scream at each other. They pay no attention to the scruffy little girl climbing out of the back seat in her honey too big t’shirt and crooked pigtails.  
Sam makes a face and tries to focus on his papers, casting a sideways glance at the bushes he knows Dean is hiding behind.  
The way they’re yelling at each other this has obviously been going on for a long time and is a pretty common occurrence.  
Sam rubs his temple and glares at the bush Dean is hiding behind, a headache building.  
He feels bad for the little girl with her hollow eyes and pale cheeks. The way she shrinks away from her parents and stares blankly into the woods.  
It pulls at Sam. Something about the way she twists her fingers in the stretched out frayed hem of her oversized t’shirt remind him of Dean. Or himself.  
He can’t help the way he purses his mouth at the yelling parents. silently judging them across the rest stop as the scream obscenities at each other and ignore their daughter. She can’t be more then six.  
He’s watching her when Dean finally trundles out of the woods in all his creamy freckled glory on his little bow legs, tossing his mane and flicking his ears at the noise.  
Her eyes go wide, Face animating into a look of wonder as she sees the tiny pony ambling out of the woods towards the impala.  
Sam smiles. There’s something cleansing about seeing such wonder in a child. It’s rare for him to see with his job.

Dean clops up to him and flicks his ears as he eyeballs Sam.   
“Ready to get back on the road?” Sam asks, only to be receive a disdainful snort and a glare from Dean. Sam’s momentarily confused until Dean starts making faces at him and chewing with his mouth open. Dean’s hungry horse face is disturbingly similar to Dean’s hungry human expressions.  
Sam turns to root through their food stash before returning to Dean with a bag of soggy fries.  
“All we have is soggy fries and jerky Dean. And I don’t think horses can eat jerky. Can horses eat fries? I mean, technically potatoes are a vegetable, and vegetables are plants right? Maybe you should try eating grass instead?” Sam wonders aloud. Dean just gives him the worlds most disproving look and sticks his nose in the bag of fries.

Sam’s so focused on trying to keep Dean from knocking the bag from his hands he doesn't notice the little girl until a tiny voice whispers “Excuse me mister?” beside him.  
He looks up to see the little girl a few feet away, nervously chewing the end of a pigtail.  
“Excuse me mister? Can I pet your pony please?” She asks in the tiniest voice imaginable. Her parents still yelling behind them.  
Sam’s face softens and he looks down at Dean, making contact with his huge green eyes, somehow still so human and expressive. Dean gives a little head bob and turns towards the little girl.  
“Of course you can.” Sam says softly as he watches Dean go right up to the little girl and look her straight in the eye.  
She’s tentative at first, reaching to barely touch a fingertip to his velvety nose. But Dean gives a soft sigh and rubs his dainty little forehead against her hands. Pushing into her pats and strokes as she loses her caution and pets him with gusto.  
Sam can’t help but smile. Dean, most terrifying demon hunting badass and therapy pony. Bringing happiness to sad little girls. His big brother really is amazing. Even when he’s cursed he’s still making people happy.  
All too soon the little girl’s yelling parents are screeching for her and she’s hugging Dean around the neck like she never wants to let him go, and he tucks his head over her shoulder and it looks for all the world like he's hugging her back as best he can and then she gone, dashing away to her family. The rusty old VW pulling out with a screech and a cloud of smoke that slowly wafts away with the noise.  
Dean stands looking after her for a long time before he shakes his head and comes back to Sam.

Sam doesn’t notice the iridescent silver streak in Dean’s mane until Dean flops his head on the bench seat between them for a nap. the silvery brightness of Dean’s brown hair catches his eye and Sam wonders.

 

In the two days it takes Sam to drive them back to the bunker everywhere they stop people walk away with smiles.  
Children, old people, young people, men, women. Everywhere. Every diner they stop at, every park they pause at to stretch Dean’s legs, even the Motel clerk Sam bribed to let him keep Dean in the room. They all seem to walk away lighter and happier after seeing Dean.  
The children laugh and smile and cling to his neck and stroke his soft fur.  
Dean puts up with all of it with good grace and patience beyond anything Sam could have expected. He even lets Sam get away with a few pats before throwing him an unimpressed look that says, “Really? You too?” with a disdainful ear flick.

With every interaction the silver streaks in his mane and tail multiply. The pale creamy white of his coat brightens, dusted softly with the cinnamon of his freckles.

By the time they arrive at the bunker Dean is an almost opalescent white, gleaming under the bright lights of the bunker garage.  
The little clip clop of his feet as he trips across the pavement echoes in the wide space as Sam follows.

He’s worried about Dean. Still hasn’t figured out what the curse is or how to change his brother back.  
He sets Dean up with as much water as he can drink and a hefty salad that Dean initially turns his nose up at but Sam knows he’ll eat later and makes himself comfortable in the library with a stack of texts.

 

Three days later Sam hasn’t found anything remotely similar to whats happened to Dean (disbarring anything involving toads and frogs).  
Dean himself has paled to a glowing silver white that seems to glitter in the light and Sam’s panic is only kept at bay by the soothing weight of Dean’s head on his knee and worried green eyes fixed on his face.  
“It’s gonna be fine Dean. It’s got to be here somewhere. Maybe I’m just looking in the wrong place.” Sam tells Dean, running fingers through his brilliant silver mane.  
“Don’t worry. I’ll find it for sure. It’s gotta be here somewhere. I’ll call Cas.” 

On the fifth day Sam nearly has a heart attack when Dean sticks his blood stained nose into his lap and breaks his focus on an ancient sumatran text. Sam looks down to see a tinted shard of glass lodged in his brother’s forehead.  
“OH MY GOD DEAN?!!!!!”  
Sam panics for a good thirty seconds before he realizes what he’s looking at and it clicks.  
“You’re a fucking _Unicorn_ Dean!” Sam breathes in awe.  
What looked like a shard of glass at first sight is in fact a single perfect crystal horn curving up from Dean’s small forehead. The skin split open at the base to loose a trickle of blood.  
Sam’s fingers tremble as he ghosts them over the tip of the horn, too afraid to really touch.  
“You’re a real live unicorn Dean.” He knows the humour of the situation will come to him later but in this moment, he feels locked in another world.  
Somewhere he knows the creature in front of him with its long slender legs and softly glowing coat is his brother. Can still see Dean in its bright green eyes as it looks at him.  
His fingertips brush the tip of the horn and for a second he fears pain, what he gets is a wash of light through his body.  
He feels completely pure, bathed in the presence of the unicorn.

The moment is broken by the bunker door opening to admit one scruffy angel.  
Cas is down the stairs with a shocked noise in a heartbeat, kneeling in front of Dean.  
 _”Dean!”_ He whispers in awe.  
Dean pins his ears and makes an uncomfortable snort. His awkwardness at the situation clear in his scuffing hooves and the twitch of his tail.  
“Can you change him back Cas?”  
“Of course I can. He looks like this because he was doused in unicorn grace. It turned him into a horse and through his pure actions he became a unicorn. Fortunately unicorn grace is the Sam as my own, all I would need to do is absorb it and Dean should become a man again.”  
Dean made a happy whistle and did a little bounce on his hooves.  
Cas reached out and touched the tip of his finger to the point of Dean’s horn and suddenly the room erupted with light.  
In the split second before Sam closed his eyes against the light he saw the huge shadows of Cas’s wings fill the room behind him.  
When he reopened his eyes Dean was standing in front of them.  
“Oh man am I happy to see you!!!” Sam crowed as he dragged Dean and Cas into a victory hug.  
“Uh… Sam? As happy as I am to see you from a normal hight and not have to worry about being stepped on, you think you could maybe ease up a bit there with the hugging?”  
“Why?” Said Sam, feeling slightly hurt.  
“Uh, because I’m naked? Cas, gimme your trench coat.” Dean demanded.


End file.
